So it is with puns, and the people who make them. It’s the expectation that what they’ve done is created humor that makes it impossible for me to laugh at what they’ve done. I’ve yet to hear a pun in the wild that was artfully inserted into a conversation without an air of “Look at me! Look at what I’ve done! It’s funny.”

So, naturally, they’re the most overused type of joke. Hearing “the door isn’t ajar! It’s a door!” isn’t funny after the fourth or fifth time.

On the other hand, new, clever puns are a lot of fun, like the steakhouse one mentioned above.

Here’s one of my favorite jokes — which is from a P.G. Wodehouse story:

“Bertie, you wouldn’t let down a pal?”
“Yes, I would.”
“But we were at school together, Bertie.”
“I don’t care.”
“The old school, Bertie, the old school!”
“Oh, well — dash it!”

Yes, I think it’s really funny. Yes, I realize that most people don’t. (I’ve shown it to many people, and most don’t think it’s funny — and they think I’m odd for finding it funny. A few do find it funny, but in a “mildly amusing” way rather than a laugh-out-loud way.) I guess you can shrug it off by saying, “grumblebee’s just a weirdo.” But since I AM grumblebee, I think it’s worth exploring.

I think it’s funny because Bertie is SO true to himself. He’s truer to himself than I expect him to be. I guess you could say, “Aha! THAT’S the violation. You only expect people to be just so true to themselves, and this violates that expectation.” To me, that’s pushing the violation theory. Violation jokes, which I do find funny, give me a naughty feeling (if just for a second). This joke doesn’t. It gives me a warm feeling — a feeling of Bertie clicking perfectly into his slot. And that feeling delights me.

I also love the fact that he’s SO adamant about letting down his pal. But all it takes is an appeal to the “old school” to ware him down. He gets worn down in 2 seconds. And yet it feels psychologically sound. I wouldn’t have expected it, but I believe it. And I’m delighted that Bertie’s friend knows him so well that he knows exactly what buttons to push.

Finally, I’m delighted by the whole world this conjures up. With incredible economy, Wodehouse conjures up a ridiculous (but seemingly truthful) world in which “the old school” is like a magic spell — or like a siren call that no one (or at least Bertie) can resist.

As for the seal pun, I do think it’s a true pun, because club has a double meaning. It would delight me even more if seal had a double meaning, too.

I guess I’m just juvenile.

To me, a good pun is a double entendre. With emphasis on the word “double.” Too many people try to pass off single entrenres — or 1.5 ententres. I don’t find them satisfying.

For instance, my dad used to drive me crazy by riffing on Louis Farrakhan’s name. He called him Farra-can’t. To me, that’s just stupid, because “Farra” doesn’t mean anything.

Datson (the car company) used to have a great slogan: we are driven. It’s not funny, but to me it’s a perfectly constructed pun. It’s a true double entendre. It means both “our cars are driven by drivers” and “our staff-members are obsessed with their work.” It’s a very packed statement, meaning two things at once. And both things are apt.

Once, when I was eating at a steak house, I mentioned that it was odd that there were no churches near by. A witty friend said, “That’s because there’s a separation between church and steak.” I though that was brilliant.